


Back in Business

by Torched22



Category: Smallville
Genre: Confessions, Drinking, First Kiss, Kidnapping, M/M, President Lex Luthor, Science Experiments, powerless clark kent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:54:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21786331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Torched22/pseuds/Torched22
Summary: A very real threat looms over Earth and a very desperate President Luthor has to put aside his feelings and find Clark. The world needs Superman back, before there is no more world left. Now it’s Luthor’s mission to reverse Clark’s powerlessness and force him back into the life he’d surrendered.
Relationships: Clark Kent/Lex Luthor
Comments: 42
Kudos: 121





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own any of these characters and have not/will not profit from this work in any way. It is simply a fanfiction written by someone who loves these characters and has ideas about how the story can progress. Because, let’s face it…erasing Lex’s memory of Smallville and taking away Clark’s powers…it kind of nullifies every event and interaction of Smallville in its entirety, and that just won’t do.

The farm, with its cheerful yellow siding and cherry red barn, looked like something out of a postcard, especially in December. Great gusts of wind carried countless snowflakes towards the already mounting snowdrifts. It was a peaceful scene, and a quiet one since the animals were nestled warmly in the barn. Winter was Clark's favorite season. He liked the cozy way that wool gray snow clouds blanketed the earth. He liked trudging through the snow and watching his breath evaporate in puffs in front of his face. 

It was a shock - his first winter without powers. It took a lot of effort to trudge through the snow, to lift it with a shovel. The wind was shockingly cold and stung his lungs when he tried to take a breath before the wind sheer would snatch it away. His nose and cheeks turned pink. He was cold anywhere he was exposed, but overheated beneath big coats. 

Despite not having powers though, he still enjoyed it the most. Setting up the Christmas tree, baking cookies, going on sleigh rides and sliding down the man-made hills in sleds...it was the stuff of childhood dreams.

He was well into enjoying December - half the month was already gone and the excitement of Christmas approaching was mounting. The girls were in the living room making ornaments, The Grinch was on in the background, and Clark smiled at them before standing at the sink and doing the dishes from lunch. Everything was perfect...too perfect. 

Something like a shadow piqued his interest and he looked up from what he was doing and peered out the frosted window. Several black SUV's came rolling up the drive and something like fear grew in his chest. Hands and arms still soaking wet, he turned and told the girls to get upstairs. They wanted to protest, but could hear the panic in their father's voice, so they went. 

"What the hell?" Clark said, scrambling for a towel and walking towards the kitchen door. Several men were getting out of the SUV, clad in black suits, like robots. Kent grabbed the rifle he kept in the pantry, above the doorframe and walked out into the blistering cold, without a jacket, his rolled up sleeves still wet. The man in front put his hands out in a placating gesture, the men around him were reaching for their weapons, and it was then that Clark saw the presidential seal on the sides of the vehicles. He lowered the shotgun and rested it against the porch railing. 

"What is this? Who are you?" Clark's heart was speeding beneath the blue flannel shirt that was now collecting snowflakes. 

"I'm Gregory Turner," the man in front said. "The president would like to have a word with you." 

"The president?" Clark said with disbelief. "Why would he want to talk to me?" 

"The fuck if I know," Turner replied, "but he's dragged us all out here to Timbuktu for this conversation."

"Great. Too bad I don't want to talk to him," Clark turned and walked back up the porch steps. 

"I'm afraid that this isn't a question, you will speak to him."

"The hell I will, it's a free country the last time I checked," Clark shot back, turning to face the entourage. 

"President Luthor says that this is a matter of national security, of life and death. What that has to do with some podunk farmer - beats the hell out of me...but he insists."

"Well, I insist on never seeing him again," Clark reached for the knob. 

He would have gone inside if he hadn't felt the unmistakable weight of Lex's gaze upon him. He turned and caught sight of that familiar face that haunted his dreams, bald head exposed, a blood red scarf wrapped around his neck, knee-length black jacket fluttering in the wind. 

"Sir, if you don't come of your own volition," Turner continued, "we'll have you arrested, and you'll be forced to talk to him." 

Clark's mouth dropped. "Arrested for what?" 

"For threatening national security." 

"That's b-" he huffed and watched his breath disappear. He knew this was a losing battle. 

"Please Mr. Kent," Turner gestured towards the armored car that Lex had rolled in on. It had snow tires and bullet-proof glass and was as sleek black as Lex's outfit. Lex continued to stand there, a foot from the car, gray eyes boring holes into Clark until he relented.

"Fine...but he only gets ten minutes."

"First I've heard someone order around a president," Turner muttered, steering Clark towards the vehicle. Lex just nodded at him when he was about a foot away and disappeared back into the back seat of the SUV. 

"He wants you to get in."

"I gathered," Clark spat, climbing in. 

Instead of two rows of seats and trunk space, the interior was limo-like, with two rows of seats that faced each other and a screen that separated the driver's seat and front passenger seat. The driver was still outside of the car though. 

The first thing that hit Clark was Lex's cologne. It was the same cologne he wore in his Smallville days; a rich and complex blend that was both warm and masculine, spicy and sweet. It filled Clark's nose and took his brain straight back through a thousand memories. Nostalgia hit him like physical blow to the chest and he struggled to push it down. He had been this close to Lex since those Smallville days - when he Superman, fighting in Metropolis. But not since he'd gave up his powers. Not since Lex became president. 

It was remarkable really, how Lex seemed to not age at all. He looked exactly as he had in Smallville, except that he had more muscle and maybe a wrinkle at the crease of his eyes from smiling. It was hard to imagine him ever smiling.

The proximity was also jarring. He chose the seat opposite of the president and the door shut behind him. Lex's eyes took him in and Clark's body chose just the wrong time to shiver. He hadn't had a jacket on and his shirt sleeves were still wet from the dishes. Snow had piled up on his shoulders and dusted the top of his hair - as it melted, it sent freezing rivulets down his face and neck. 

"What is this Lex?" Clark said, his features set hard, eyes burning with tightly coiled anger. He - Clark Kent - hadn't actually seen Lex since he'd covered Luthor's press conferences for the Daily Planet. He limited his interactions with Lex, as Clark, and for very good reason. 

"I see you've ditched the glasses," Lex said, head tilted. "That's good. They never suited you." 

Clark swallowed. "You didn't answer my question." 

"Before I do - answer your question - I need you to know," Lex leaned forward, "that we're the only ones in this vehicle and that it's been swept for bugs. No one is listening to our conversation, and just to be sure, I brought a jamming device," he reached into his trench coat and pulled out a compact black box with an antenna and blinking light. 

Clark just stared at it confused, then at Lex, confused. 

Now Clark was starting to sweat, well, he would have if he weren't so cold. Lex didn't know his secret, never figured it out, so why was he here talking about national security?

"I need you to not freak out..."

"Why would I freak out?"

"Because I know that you're Superman..." 

"No," Clark's world narrowed, his heart stuttered. The car felt too small and he reached for the door handle, but Lex's hand landed atop his.

"I'm not here to hurt you or threaten you or...do anything bad..."

Clark's eyes were wide, his pupils huge as a deer caught in headlights.

"Wh- I don't..."

"I have come here about national security...about world security Clark." 

"You've got it wrong..."

"No. I don't," Lex's hand atop his was warm, reassuring. Clark thought that it ought to feel threatening, but it didn't. "I've known for about five years, since before you lost your powers."

Clark was stunned into silence, he kept shaking his head 'no.' 

"Believe me Clark, I want to leave you alone. I never liked the idea of Superman." 

Clark's hand fell and he brought it back to his lap, missing the warmth of Lex's, but terrified at that thought. 

"I always thought it was dangerous, having a being that powerful. If he - you - could be manipulated, it could mean the end of mankind."

"But...?"

"But it would appear that mankind's end is imminent *because* we don't have Superman." 

"No," Clark huffed a disbelieving laugh, but there was anxiety beneath it. 

"Yes."

"There are other heroes." 

"Not like the Man of Steel there aren't."

Clark swallowed but his throat was dry. 'I feel like having a panic attack,' he thought to himself. It was an odd thought, but it's what went through his head. 

"We're facing a threat greater than anything we've encountered," Lex's face was grave. "Even with all the world's heroes, we won't stand a chance, not against this."

"Well, what is *this?*" 

Lex took a deep breath in and looked a bit older suddenly, the sun peeking through the clouds, reaching through the tinted windows, and trying to cut across his face.

"I can't read you into the situation unless you agree to help."

"I -" Clark's mouth fell open and no words came out. He couldn't deny being Superman. Not now. Lex knew. Didn't he? How did he know? For five years? Why hadn't he act upon that information then? Back when he still wore the cape? Back before Luthor was president? 

"I know that you don't trust me Clark," Lex said, the smallest hint of sadness behind the wall of words. "But this could literally mean the end of the world. Even if you don't trust me, or want to do anything for me, you should want to do it for them - the people out there," Lex nodded towards Smallville, towards Metropolis. "And for them," he nodded again, this time towards Clark's home.

"I...I can't...this isn't...that's not..." he wanted to say 'who I am anymore.' 

"I know that you just want to be normal, Clark. But if you don't agree to regaining your powers, to helping the planet, there will be no normal left to have. No future for your children. And if you survive it, you'll be forced to live the rest of your life with billions of people's blood on your hands," Lex was leaning forward, his gray eyes piercing through Clark's flesh. 

It felt as if Clark couldn't breathe. 

"I can't...get my powers back..." he said with a lump in his throat. 

"You said you 'gave them up,' that implies choice, Clark." 

"I know...but...it's not reversible. Not this time."

Lex's head lowered and his eyes closed. Clark could hear the steady rhythm of his breath, feel the heat radiating from his body, he was leaned so far forward that their knees touched. Finally, Lex's eyes reopened. 

"Please come to Washington. Let me...put my mind to it...maybe..."

"Let you experiment on me? No, no. There is no maybe. It's irreversible, you'll have to find another way. I'm sorry Lex," Clark said in a tumble of words, rushing to get out of the car. He catapulted himself out into the snow and blew past Turner, towards his house. He could feel Luthor's eyes upon him once more, but there was no turning back. He expected to hear Lex calling after him, but his name was never shouted across the snow. As he opened the kitchen door, the only sound he heard was doors closing, cars starting, the squeal of tires turning, engines roaring as they drove away.


	2. Chapter 2

Clark took a page from Bruce's book and decided to spend the next week sulking. He hid away, burying himself in mindless chores, and whenever Lois attempted speaking to him, he just couldn't connect. It wasn't a surprise that she had asked what Luthor's visit was about, and he'd told her. After he explained everything, she said how glad she was that they had no secrets. Right...

The only problem was...they did have secrets...or rather, Clark did. It could never pass his lips because he couldn't even admit it to himself. It lived in the back of his mind, weighing on his conscious, keeping him awake. 

It was during one of these 3am pacing sessions that Clark's hand kept gravitating towards his cellphone. Trying to gather more information about this "imminent threat," Clark dialed Bruce's private number. It didn't pay off. Bruce didn't know of any great ominous plots against Earth. In fact, he chocked it up to being a sinister "Luthor plot." The phone conversation ended with Bruce telling him not to worry...to just..."let the JLA handle whatever threats come their way." 

Clark hung up and felt useless. He didn't sleep the rest of the night and got straight into chores the next morning. He had fed the animals, cleared away snow on the drive, hung the girls' ornaments on the tree, fed and walked the dog. There was no denying that he loved winter, but today it appeared dreary and endless. Rather than feel comforted by the blanket of gray clouds, he felt smothered. He wanted to rise above them. To fly. To see the sun. He shoved the thought from his mind and got back to work.

He had tried to hide away the effects of Lex's visit on him, but the truth was that it had shaken him to his core. When he closed his eyes, he saw Lex's eyes. He had tried his damnedest to avoid Lex throughout the years, even as Superman, and there was a reason why. Time dripped like a leaking faucet, passing slowly. Even hugging the girls hadn't helped Clark's mood today. Lex's visit was seven days ago, but things weren't getting better. Trying not to think about Lex's warning was taking all of Clark's energy. 

He carried on...ordering supplies, buying groceries, giving the girls lunch, fixing the fence, and finally...bailing hay. He was alone in the barn, headphones in, when Lois came upon him and tapped him on the shoulder. He jumped and took the music from his ears.

"So what are you going to do?" she asked for the fourth time in two days, interrupting his attempts to not think. 

"I told you. I'm not going to do anything." 

"That's not an answer."

"What do you want me to do?" he turned towards her, exasperated. His arms were screaming in pain from lifting the heavy bales. He was tired, sweating, frustrated and angry. He couldn't eat. He couldn't sleep. He couldn't enjoy life on the farm, especially thinking that the world was in serious danger. And worst of all, he didn't even want to talk to Lois about this. 

"I want you to do whatever will help you to...to..."

"To what?" 

"To get back to normal!" 

"And what is normal Lois?" sweat dripped off his brow and his gloved hands were upturned in exasperation.

"Normal is the life we've built here." 

"Is it? Nothing will ever be normal Lois. Just because I don't have my powers anymore, doesn't mean I'm normal."

"Where is this coming from? Is this guilt?" she looked seriously worried. 

"Of course it's guilt! How can I not feel guilty? Lex is telling me the world's ending and the planet needs Superman and I...I renounced my powers. For what? For normalcy? And what if my normalcy cost the entire world its normalcy?" 

"You're just a person Clark, you can't take on responsibility for the entire world." His mind tumbled over itself and tripped. How could she think that? Of course he was responsible. Guilt sat on him like a thousand pound weight. It was crushing him to death. "Just a person," echoed through his mind. Was that was he was? Really?

"The thing is, I'm not just a person Lois. Even without my powers I'm still an..." he stopped, the word 'alien,' hung affixed to the tip of his tongue. It was a word he had hated his entire life. He huffed a sigh and lowered his head. She drew nearer to him.

"You are the best of humanity," Lois said, taking one of his gloved hands. Clark only heaved another weary sigh in response. "Not to mention, you don't even know if what Lex is saying has any truth to it." 

His green eyes snapped to hers and he drew his hand away. "You think Lex came all the way here from Washington DC just to lie to me?" 

"I didn't say that, but what I am saying is that his motives can't be trusted Clark...you of all people should know that. Maybe he just misses having an adversary." 

Kent shook his head and peeled off his gloves. "Lex wouldn't make up a threat like this."

"Okay, so you think he's telling the truth. Why not go to DC and really assess the situation?"

"He's not going to give me any more information unless...unless I agree to..."

"To what?" 

"To let him experiment on me, to get my powers back." 

Her face paled. "That's one of your greatest fears Clark...becoming a guinea pig in Luthor's lab...and now it sounds like you're actually considering doing it," she was dumbstruck.

"What if it gives me my powers back?" 

"Is that what you want? To have your powers back? Has homemaking gotten too mundane for you?" 

"No, that's not what I'm saying at all. You know that I love you and the girls."

"I know, but do you miss being Superman?" 

He wanted to say no, his lips parted in preparation to deliver that very single syllable, but it caught on his lips. The truth was, Clark did miss it. He was conflicted to say the least, and he wore that inner turmoil on every feature of his face. For the first time since Lois had met him, Clark appeared to be aging. 

"I think you should go." 

"Why?"

"If anything, I think it will help you to realize that there isn't anything you can do and there's no sense in torturing yourself over any of this. Hopefully, when you get back, you'll be able to eat and sleep and be the Clark I know," she turned and left the barn. 

He wiped at his brow and turned towards the hay, rearing a foot back and kicking it as hard as he could. It didn't move much. If he had his powers, it would be in another country. 

Lex's words haunted him. Had he been selfish? Leaving the JLA and the world to fend for itself? At the time it hadn't felt selfish, it felt necessary to maintain his sanity. He wanted a normal life for so long and when Lois had given him that opportunity, he took it. It had become exhausting trying to be the world's savior. Trying to whittle down the cries for help. Trying to represent America while not pissing off other countries or the politicians and military in his own. Everyday was a tightrope walk. 

There was so much about being Superman that Clark hadn't told Lois about. There was so much that haunted Clark about being Superman. He had to x-ray the ground for bodies to help the police. He had the stink of burning flesh engrained in his memory from explosions and building fires. He had to pull cars out of rivers and try not to crack bones as he gave CPR. He had to choose on a daily basis who to save and who to let die, and that much power wasn't something he'd ever asked for. With every decision, he questioned the choices he made. Did I save the right person? What more could I have done there, or who could I have helped here? 

To contrast that, he couldn't go through a supermarket without passing an action figure of himself. It made him sick, seeing that little plastic replica of his face. For the most part, he didn't feel like a hero. There was no reprieve from his duties. 

Work helped - for a while. Then newspapers started tanking and writers got laid off. People were now obsessed with the internet, with social media. They wanted to see their own faces more than they wanted to face the news. It was as if the entire world adopted the - "well, there's nothing I can do to fix it," mentality, and it broke his heart. All the media had become was political squabbles and cute kittens. Sure, he had nothing against kittens, but he wanted more. 

Everything felt so superficial. He'd even saved two kids once, caught their car in mid-air as it was going off a bridge. The kid driving was texting. And what happened after he set the car down? The kid got out and asked for a selfie. 

Sometimes he wanted to leave Earth altogether. 

'Ironic, isn't it,' he thought to himself. 'I spent so much time harping on Bruce for being a moody bastard, and that's exactly what I've become.' 

He sat on another hay bale and put his head in his hands. He didn't move as the sun dipped below the horizon and the doorway from the barn turned black. Finally, after a few hours, he pulled out his phone and opened a flight app. 

It was time to go to DC. It was time to stop hiding from the life he'd renounced in favor of normalcy. His girls needed a world in order to have a future, and if trying to get his powers back and saving it was required- he'd do it.


	3. Chapter 3

Clark was kind of screwed. He hadn't taken Lex up on his offer when he'd visited and now he didn't know how to get in touch with him at all. It's not like he could just email the president of the United States. Unsure of quite what to do, Clark packed a bag and got on a redeye flight to Washington. He didn't even tell the JLA what he was doing. 

He landed in DC at 5 in the morning. It was weird being back in Washington without his powers. The last time he'd been here as Superman, he'd shaken the hand of the president before Lex, and didn't return again until the military summoned him for a debriefing a year after that. It was hard for him not to associate DC with some sort of disaster. And now...now it was Lex's home. 

He hadn't stood upon the podium to shake President Luthor's hand at his inauguration. Just the month before that moment, he had given up his powers. That was three years ago. 

He had watched the election progress and saw Lex's inauguration on TV. In one interview, about a month into his presidency, one reporter had asked Luthor how it felt to be the first president during the 'reign of Superman' to not get a handshake from the hero. Lex's face didn't change, but Clark could see some shifting of emotion behind the stolid Luthor mask. He seemed...sad. But only someone who knew him deeply would have caught it. At the time, he'd answered in the most curt and professional way possible. "I'm not sure why Superman was not at my inauguration," Lex said. "I'm sure that the Man of Steel is quite busy. Next question." 

A headache formed behind Clark's eyes at Lex's answer. He hadn't told the world he had retired - not yet. He was going to hold a press conference, that is, until Diana and Bruce convinced him that it wasn't a good idea. He didn't want to put a target on the world's back. He didn't want the city, or the country, or the world to panic. So...he simply slipped away. 

The news that followed went wild with speculation. He kept them in a lockbox in the barn. "Is Superman Dead?" "Has the Alien Given up on Humanity?" "Where is our Hero?" "Who will Save us Now?" Each headline was a dagger to the heart. 

Three years without powers. 

Having the girls made it easier to walk away from the Superman gig. Oh, the irony though. Now he would have to pick back up the mantle of Superman in order to protect them. Right?

"Hey mister, watch it," said an angry passer-by as they clipped Clark's shoulder on the sidewalk. He hadn't even checked into a hotel. The only thing he'd done was get breakfast and walk around like a zombie. 

What was he going to do? He couldn't just walk up to the White House and say, "hey, I'm Clark Kent. Lex's old best friend and former Superman. I'm here to possibly save the world, could you let me see him?" 

Part of him felt dumb for even coming. 

He found a decent cafe and got a cup of coffee. The pace of this city was so different. Hardly anyone sat and drank their coffees. They just bought them, got them, and took off. "Toto, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore," he muttered under his breath to no one in particular as he took a sip of his cappuccino. This definitely wasn't the Talon.

Reaching into his long brown jacket, he pulled out his cellphone and brought it to life. Thinking of the Talon had got him thinking of Smallville.

"Maybe..." he said to himself, pressing the green phone button. The number pad sprang to life. He reached far into his memory and retrieved a familiar number; one he hadn't dialed since he was 17. Yet, the ten digits lived there, waiting. He dialed them and put the phone to his ear, expecting to hear an error message of some sort. Instead, it rang. 

And rang. 

And rang again. 

And again.

He was about to hang up, pulling the phone away from his ear, when he heard a, "hello?" 

Putting the phone back to his ear he returned a timid, "hello. Uhm, is this Lex?" 

"Yes." 

Holy shit. It was Lex.

"It's Clark." 

Silence.

"Clark," Lex repeated, surprise evident in his voice. 

"Yes. I, uh, I'm here in DC. Can we talk again? Meet?"

"Absolutely. Where are you now?" 

Clark craned his head to see the name of the cafe and relay the information to Lex. 

"Great, I'll have a car on the way to pick you up in five minutes."

"Okay. See you later."

"Later." 

Click.

Clark looked at his phone, staring at it as if it contained the mysteries of the universe. He remembered the "old days," when he'd spend hours on the phone with Lex. He'd get home from school, inhale dinner, bounce up the steps after he was done with chores and begin dialing the very number he'd just dialed. Sometimes he'd talk to Lex on the phone in his room, or in the loft, or in the kitchen. Every time the phone rang, his heart skipped. 

He could scarcely believe that the number still connected him to Lex. 

As promised, a black SUV pulled up and a driver opened the passenger door and beckoned him in. 

The ride only took fifteen minutes, but it felt like much longer. It was as if he were...anxious.

They finally arrived at the White House. There was no fanfare, Lex was not waiting to greet him. He was given a badge and ushered through the historic hallways decorated for Christmas. 

Sunlight poured through the window panes and spilled onto the floor, lighting Clark as he passed. His escort brought him to an unremarkable door that led to a somewhat unremarkable room where he was instructed to wait. 

He paced. He fidgeted. He attempted to read a magazine but failed. He tried to watch something on a flatscreen TV but also failed. It was kind of his fault for surprising Luthor. It was hard enough getting an appointment to get the girls in to see the doctor when they were sick. He hadn't even made an appointment...just dropped in to see the president. 

Finally, during his pacing, the door opened. He turned, ready to admonish whichever staff member was again here to assure him it'd be just a "little while longer," when his words caught in his throat. Lex stood before him, gently closing the door as he entered.

"You look better when you're not covered in snow," Lex gave a tiny smile. "Sorry to keep you waiting. I have to maintain the appearance of normalcy after all."

"But things aren't normal," Clark said solemnly. It was both a question and a statement.

"No, they aren't. But what is normalcy anyway? I think it's overrated," Luthor stepped a bit closer. 

"So what happens now?" 

"Now I have to attend to my regularly scheduled programming, but I'm available tonight to get the ball rolling."

"Get the ball rolling on what exactly?" this time, it was Clark who stepped closer. His heart was picking up pace. 

Lex pocketed his hands, the good one and the gloved one. Clark could tell that he was choosing his words very carefully. 

"Get the ball rolling on learning things. Researching. Finding a way."

Clark swallowed and took a deep breath in. 

"It scares you, I know."

Clark's eyes widened. It was scary how disarming Lex could be. 

"I know that you don't know me, that you don't trust me, and you have no reason to. I have no history with you beyond butting heads with Superman. You were too powerful, almost all-powerful. It was my goal to strengthen humanity to the point where it no longer needed heroes," he paused. 

"I feel that there's a 'but' coming."

Lex's gaze hardened. "But we're not there yet."

"I'd like to hear more about this threat to the world Luthor."

"And I'd like to hear more about how you gave up your powers."

"Okay, so tonight then."

"Tonight," Lex agreed, turning back towards the door from which he'd come. His hand was on the knob when he half turned his head over his shoulder. "Where are you staying while in town?" 

"Uhm, I haven't figured that out just yet." 

"Stay here, with me." 

"In the White House?"

"Yeah, I didn't like it either at first. I still miss my penthouse. Living in a museum like this feels like..."

"...like living in the castle." 

Lex turned, his brow furrowed. He very, very vaguely remembered living in a castle that Lionel had brought over and reconstructed from Scotland. It had also felt, very much like, living in a museum. Like he could never truly relax. Never truly call it his own. 

"Smallville," Lex said in a tiny voice, his expression distant. "That's where your farm is. Where the castle is. Where the crap factory was." He turned towards Clark, a look of shock and realization gracing his features. It was as if he'd awoken from a dream and shaken off the barrier that made dreams disappear in the daylight. "How well do you know me?" 

Clark's eyes were locked onto Lex's, searching for a thousand answers but only getting a thousand questions. Before Kent could prepare for a response of any sort - not that he had one - the door opened behind Lex. 

"President Luthor," it was Gregory Turner, the president's personal advisor. "It's time for the press conference." He paused, looked at the stunned president, then at the other familiar face. "Ah, it's farmer Kent. How lovely to see you again." 

"I sense that there's sarcasm in your tone."

"You sensed correctly. Now, Mr. President, can we please go? You're going to be late." 

Lex just nodded and followed his minion out the door, giving Clark one last look before he left.


	4. Chapter 4

"So, how'd you give up your powers?" 

Clark just stared at Lex, a frown tilting at his lips. "You cut right to the chase, don't you?" 

"There's no time to waste," Lex offered.

Kent sucked in a deep breath and stared at his former best friend skeptically. He didn't trust the man standing before him who was shedding his jacket and placing it on the back of a chair. Unfortunately, he couldn't deny that Lex looked good in a three piece suit. 

Silence filled the room, growing between them like a flood that was quickly turning into an ocean. 

Clark took in the room rather than answer, observing how much it reminded him of the study in the castle. A fireplace cast a warm, flickering glow around the wood-clad space. Rows of bookshelves lined the opposite wall and two sofas sat parallel to one another with a coffee table in the middle. He was seated on the middle cushion of the ivory sofa to the left of the fireplace. Lex stood behind a desk set diagonally from the sofas. The desk was simple and modern and Lex was now walking around it and towards Clark.

"Look, I know that you don't trust me." 

"That's a massive understatement." 

The words dug at Lex, clawing at his chest, but he had no other option than to let them go. He probably deserved them anyway. 

"I know that we haven't talked much about the situation and it's been a whirlwind since you got here yesterday. I'm sorry that we had to wait this long to get down to brass tacks, but now that we're here, we have a lot of work to do."

Clark's sharp green eyes snapped up to Lex who was standing, hands in his pockets, staring down at him. 

"First, I'd like to know about this great threat that is going to destroy life as we know it," Clark sat back, hands clasped together. 

"Why? So that you can decide whether or not it's a threat worthy of bringing Superman back?" 

"So I can make sure that you haven't just brought me here because you're bored and want your...nemesis...plaything back."

Lex tilted his head and huffed a chuckle. Is that what you are Clark?" His voice was deeper but full of mirth as he said, "...my nemesis plaything?" 

Something squirmed inside of his chest. That coy tone and sly smile...they felt like...flirting or fondness or both. He surmised that he didn't like it. 

He suddenly took his hands out of his pocket and turned, moving towards a bar that lived behind the sofa opposite of where Clark sat. The sweet, sharp smell of whiskey floated towards him as the Lex opened the decanter and poured a glass. He poured another as well.

"You didn't ask if I wanted a drink..."

"I'm giving you one anyway," he returned the lid to the decanter with a clank and picked up both glasses. It made Clark mad how elegant he was without even trying. He had sauntered over to the sofa and extended a crystal-cut whiskey tumbler that Kent was now obligated to take. Clark gave a curt nod in thanks and took the drink, trying not to focus on how his fingers had accidentally brushed against Luthor's. 

The older man sat and took a sip. Clark could see his expression shift as he savored the amber liquid, then brought it to lap level. His gray eyes studied the reflections in the crystal and the hints of his smile dissipated as the gears in his mind worked. His eyes turned serious. He didn't even lift his head as he spoke. "We - the planet, not just this country - face a grave threat, Clark. It's an alien threat and it's serious enough to end life for all of us. I tried to negotiate with them," he leaned forward, elbows on his knees, his eyes trained somewhere far away. "It didn't work. They don't want to negotiate. They want to plunder and destroy and move on to the next unfortunate planet," he took a long swig. 

"What are they called?" 

"The Ceruse." 

"Where are they from?" 

"They're from the Altair system, it's located in the Thrasybule sector of the Outer Rim Territories. We only know of two planets that orbit the Altair star, but there could be more. Their star is the brightest in the constellation of Aquila and twelfth brightest star in the night sky. We can't really gather more information because of the nearby interstellar G-cloud of dust and ice," he took a long breath and finally ventured a look at Clark. "Sorry, I'm nerding out." 

"No. It's good information." 

"As Superman...did you ever take trips, out into space?" his eyes glittered at the scientific possibilities of an answer in the positive.

Clark just scowled in response to the question, his jaw locked shut.

"Right, you don't want to tell me anything. I doubt you could make it out that far anyway." 

"So you said that you tried negotiating with them?" 

"I met with the leader of their fleet. Or rather, he met with me. NASA astronomers caught their fleet hovering between the Earth and Moon. Of course, I had military advisors suggesting attack, but I'm not nearly that stupid. If they have the tech to get them into other galaxies, we wouldn't stand a chance. Instead of doing something stupid, I had a transmission sent to them and they responded. I think that they were amused that the ants wanted to talk."

"And you're sure of their intentions?" 

"He didn't mince words Clark."

"How did he even have words to mince? They speak English?"

"Apparently, they can analyze any language and have advanced translators that take their words and translate them to whatever language they need them to be. I could make trillions if I could just figure out how those damn things work..." he jested.

"Luthor!" 

"Yeah, yeah, save the planet, I know." 

"This isn't a time to be..."

"What? Joking?" his tone soured. "You think this is easy for me Clark?" Gray eyes snapped to green and they were molten and desperate in a way that Clark had never witnessed. "I've had to live with this for three weeks now and the clock is ticking. They're waiting for something I think, maybe another, more militarized ship. And when it gets here, we're done for," he threw the glass back and swallowed the thousand dollar whiskey like a shot. 

He stood and walked towards the bar once more. 

"I can't talk about this to anyone. I have no help. And honestly, I'm out of ideas. Even if we could get the planet's militaries to mobilize in time, we still wouldn't stand a chance. Never mind the panic and absolute collapse that even telling others would cause."

"Do other nations know? Their leaders I mean?" 

Silence. Then the sound of clinking crystal and liquid sloshing.

"Luthor?!"

"No. They don't."

"Oh my god," Clark rocked back in the sofa. "How? You have to tell them!" 

"Do I? And who can I trust Clark? What if one of them lets it slip to someone they shouldn't tell and the entire infrastructure of the globe collapses? What if a leader decides to go to them and cut them a deal to sell out all of the human race? I don't know if you've noticed, but a lot of people are shit." 

"You don't trust anyone." 

"No, I don't, and for good reason. Five people know, six including you now. That's it."

"Well can't other countries see their fleet hanging out there in space?" 

"After I spoke with Rax - that was his name - real mix of dystopian bounty hunter and drug addled rock star..." "Luthor!" "I told him to hide the fleet behind the moon and he did." 

"Why would he do that? Why was the fleet visible to begin with? Wouldn't a surprise attack be the way to go?" 

"Clark...we're ants, they are a boot...it doesn't matter if we know they're coming or not. The ending is the same. I don't think he really cared either way. If anything, I think he liked that I wanted to hide them from the rest of the world."

Kent took several deep breaths and brought the glass to his lips for the first time. It was the smoothest whiskey he'd ever experienced, like liquid amber with the warmth of a fire on his tongue. Too bad the world was ending. That was enough to sour the experience. "I'm just one man, Lex," he said worriedly. "Even as Superman...what can I do?" 

"Well...if the fight starts in space, Superman, Green Lantern and Wonder Woman have a shot at weakening their first line. If...er...when, it reaches Earth, every hero comes into play as well as every global military. It would be a war, the likes of which, we've never witnessed. I'm assuming that they have advanced shielding tech and maybe even the ability to absorb our blows and use that very energy against us. Basically, they've brought a nuke to play with, and we have sticks and stones." 

"Luthor, I'm just..."

"One man, I know. But maybe...maybe if you negotiated with them, they would reconsider." 

"What is it they even want?" 

"They're war hungry Clark. I could see the maniacal glitter in Rax's eyes, I know that look. They want a fight more than anything."

"Yeah, well, they want a fight and what else...?" 

"And all the water on the planet."

Clark's mouth parted as worry rearranged his features. 

"All the water and..." Lex's head bobbed left and right infinitesimally, as if considering whether or not to tell him. "...and all the rare Earth elements, plus two of each of our animals, and a couple hundred thousand humans...probably to enslave."

Clark paled.

"I also have a feeling that they wouldn't be too opposed to eating us." 

"What? This isn't an episode of the Twilight Zone Luthor! This isn't the time..."

"...for joking? I know. But I'm serious. That Rax guy was huge and he kept staring at my body and running his two tongues over his razored, triangle teeth." He visibly shuddered and Clark wondered what these beings looked like.

Clark couldn't help the roil in his stomach and his pale face reflecting it. 

Lex was sipping from his second glass and returning to the sofas. This time though, he opted to sit next to Clark rather than across from him, a move that made panic and heat spread through the younger man.

"I think that the universe realized that Earth was no longer protected by Superman," Luthor whispered. 

"So this is my fault?" he sputtered, clanking his now empty tumbler on the coffee table, face turned to his ex-friend.

"I didn't say that." 

"But you did," he scoffed. "Unbelievable...you're the same in every dimension," he muttered.

Lex jarred, his eyes questioning, "what does that mean?" 

"Nothing."

"Not nothing!" Shock dawned over Luthor like rays of the sun cresting over the mountains. "You've met other versions of me?!" he crowded into his space, curiosity eating him from the inside out.

"Just...one version," Clark admitted finally. 

Lex looked like a kid on Christmas morning.

"No way!" 

Clark tried to suppress a smile at how this man had gone from President Luthor to a squealing teenage girl in ten seconds flat. 

"Tell me everything! What was he like? How did he get here? Or did you go there? Was he the president?"

Clark put his large hands out, "woah there, slow down." 

"Tell me!" 

"Oh my god," he lamented. How had he gotten himself into this? "Well...he had a beard and mustache."

Lex's face scrunched up into an, 'are you kidding me?' expression. What? Was he bald?" 

"Yes." 

His face scrunched further. "But if he can grow facial hair, why not grow hair - hair?" "I dunno." " I wonder what his downstairs situation is like," Luthor said aloud, unabashed. 

"Oh my goddddd," Clark put his face in his hands and turned three shades of red. He wasn't sure how, but during the course of this conversation, he had fallen into a conversational groove that reminded him of his old friend and those days long past in sleepy, sunset Smallville.

"Well, what was your interaction with him like?" 

*Sigh* "Do I really have to do this with you right now? Shouldn't we be talking about how to get my powers back?" 

"Yeah, of course, I have a lab set up and everything," he rushed, the words blending together. "But just...satiate my curiosity first."

Clark's stomach soured at the notion of some flourescent-lit, antiseptic-scented, experimental hell, but Lex's excitement was infection and pushed him forward, regardless of his feelings. 

"Well...he showed up at the farm. He brought kryptonite," he broke into a smile. "You should have seen his face when I took it from his hand." 

Lex sucked in a giddy breath and laughed, his eyes sparkling in a way that Clark didn't know they still could. "Then what did you do?" 

"Why are you this excited to hear about how I bested...well...you?" 

"Because it wasn't me!" Lex put his glass down so he could gesticulate with more animation. "Well, it was and it wasn't. The possibilities, the scientific opportunities, the behavioral aspects...it's fascinating. So tell me, what did you do?"

"I took it from his hand and tossed it away." Lex was still enraptured in the tale, breath baited for the next bit. "He was shocked. I told him I gave up my powers. He looked at me with the same surprise and disgust that you did in the limo when I told you I gave up my powers."

Lex's face fell a bit and Clark felt a desperate urge to return the smile to it. 

"He tried to punch me," he tried. The light returned to Lex's eyes. 

"And?!"

"I caught his fist, then I punched him." 

He let out another laugh and the smile was back. "That's fantastic!" 

"Is it?" Clark chuckled. "Who knew you'd be so thrilled at the idea of me beating you up?" 

"Maybe I'm kinkier than you thought," Lex let slip. The whiskey had gotten to him. He had a drink and a half before Clark had witnessed him drink two more. 

Clark sputtered a cough because he had accidentally inhaled his own spit in surprise. Then, he blushed like he was fifteen again. 

Lex couldn't take his eyes off Clark, enthralled with the rosy pink gracing his angular cheeks. God, what he would have given to be there and see that interaction. He wanted to see himself get punched for some reason. 

"Do you know how he got to you?"

"Not really...he had some book or something and popped out of a portal like a demented jack-in-the-box."

Kent couldn't believe that the man next to him, the stolid president, the billionaire genius who was usually as serious as a heart attack...was laughing. Really laughing. "Oh, don't get me wrong, I'd kill to get my hands on whatever let him travel to another Earth," he wiped at his eyes to remove the tears that had gathered from his giggles. "But I can't get over how hilarious this all is. Do you know what his endgame was?" "No...but he went home rather disappointed I think."

"That's too good," Lex added. "Good job," he bumped his shoulder into Clark and a tingle ran down the younger man's side.

Clark was getting the impression that the president had more than the two drinks he saw him have, and he was reaching for his newly topped up glass. 

"How many drinks have you had Lex?"

He stopped, his face shifting from laughter to a warm smile. "Both too much and not enough," he grinned. "You just...you just called me Lex..."

"I did? I don't think I did," Clark lied. 

A beat of silence passed between them and Clark could hear the loud ticking of a clock somewhere in the room.

Sadness edged into Lex's face and Kent couldn't bear it. 

"Okay, okay, you caught me. I'm sorry...I shouldn't call you Lex." 

"You *should* call me Lex," he answered, "you just shouldn't lie to me." 

Guilt squirmed in Clark's chest, although he wasn't sure why. Lex was his enemy...er...Superman's enemy...right? He didn't owe him anything. Right? Still, he felt a rising urge to make things better. 

"I'm sorry. I was just embarrassed. I didn't mean to call you Lex. It feels too..." What? his brain asked. Too friendly? Too personal? Too unfair that this man doesn't even know that you used to be friends? 

"Well, I liked it," he gave a sort of sad smile and finished his drink.

"So...it's probably too late now to work on my powers...but..." 

Lex looked at him expectantly, the firelight dancing on the left side of his face. Clark was far too aware of his proximity to the other man and the familiar scent of cologne that he hadn't experienced in so long. He smelled of bergamot and patchouli and something warm and cinnamon-y. It was intoxicating. His own body also felt warm and tingly from his drink, something he had to get used to since his powers were gone. Adding to his newfound conflicting feelings...The thought of opening up and telling Lex anything was sort of terrifying and thrilling. They had been bitter enemies at the worst of times and ignorant of each other's existences at the best. Clark had meant what he said to the other Lex...that he 'didn't miss these conversations.' And he didn't, because they were too painful. Too close. 

"How did you lose them?" Lex jolted his thoughts back to realtime. 

He swallowed, gathered up his courage and then said it. "Gold kryptonite."


	5. Chapter 5

<https://alexisluthor.tumblr.com/post/190500445456/lex-luthor-doodles-pls-dont-steal>

Before he knew it, Clark was offering to walk a mostly inebriated Lex out of his study and towards his bedroom. Lex was quick to point out an alternate route to his chambers that avoided security cameras. His pale hand popped open a bookcase to reveal a hallway and Clark couldn't help the, "cool," that floated past his lips.

"Oh, there are much cooler things than this, here, after you," he gestured and Clark entered the corridor. Even for being a secret, private space, the walls had lush wallpaper and beautiful wood floors. Sconces every few yards lit up the narrow space as they walked in comfortable silence.

"How big is this?" Clark turned his head, forgetting for a moment that he didn't have powers and trying to scan the building with x-ray vision. Whoops. Sadness washed over him at the idea of reaching for powers that weren't there.

"This one runs the entire length of the White House. There are other, shorter ones that go from room to room."

"It's like a CLUE board."

"Ah yes," Lex chuckled, "Superman took out the president in the study with a first edition copy of Shakespeare's collected works."

He chuckled, "death by Shakespeare does seem...fitting. I thought that having to get through it in high school really would kill me."

"Oh, I doubt that, you seem smart enough."

"Oh, I'm smart enough am I?" he half turned, tone incredulous.

Lex gave him one of those smiles that Clark couldn't put his finger on the meaning of, but he liked it.

Unfortunately, it was one of the last things he saw.

The lights in the corridor suddenly cut off with a snap, darkness flooding the space and its two occupants.

"Lex?" Clark said with panic.

"Come on," the other man's tone was deadly serious as he grabbed his arm and began rushing them towards the door at the end of the hallway.

Suddenly, the hand was gone, pulled away with force, Lex's fingers trying to hold on. Clark called for him and reached out into the darkness with desperation. "Clark!" Lex screamed. The sound of it - the terror clinging to each syllable - made madness and panic rise in his chest. He called back, but Lex was silent. He had the sense that someone was near, but knew it couldn't be Lex because whoever it was remained deadly silent.

A pain in his neck, sharp like a bee sting and blooming warmth through his body with every beat of his frantic heart.

"What is this? Who are you?" he said uselessly. After the hit to his neck, he flailed, but his hands never connected with a body. Then, someone was behind him, strong arms around his neck. Clark struggled and fought, but it was no use. Whatever hit his neck was an injection of some sort. His legs felt heavy and useless like leaden jello. The heartbeat that was furiously racing in his ears was slowing considerably and even though he couldn't see a thing, he knew he was dizzy.

"NO!" he squirmed, but it was like fighting the ocean tide. He had a very brief but powerful wave of regret for giving up his powers. He couldn't protect anyone. Not the most important man in the free world, and not himself.

A different kind of darkness enveloped Clark, swallowing him down thickly until his limbs wouldn't move and his eyelids closed.

The last words off his lips were, "Lex."


	6. Chapter 6

The first thing that Clark registered was the cotton ball dryness of his mouth. His lips were stuck shut and his tongue tasted funny. He took in a deep breath and opened his eyes. The room around him was a blur that threatened to start spinning. He swallowed, cleared his throat and moved to shift his arms and legs, except they didn't go anywhere. Head snapping to his left, he could see that his wrists were held down by metal restraints. So were his legs. He was strapped to a table and panic slammed into him hard. Trying to bite back the urge to hyperventilate, he looked around, blinking several times until he could make out a figure. 

"What is this? Where's Lex?" his voice sounded small and wobbly. 

The figure just laughed and walked closer. He was clad in all black and wore a mask. "I don't know if you realize this, but you're the hostage. I'm the one who asks the questions." 

"No, I need to know that he's alright. Please, I'll cooperate - I will - just tell me how he is." Clark pulled against the restraints, but it only made pain spring to his wrists. He looked around, blinking several times and trying to figure out where he was. But there were no windows, no sign of life other than the man he was talking to. 

"Does it matter what I tell you?" the stranger replied. "If I tell you he's 'okay,' will you believe me? I could lie, just to ensure your cooperation. Or...I could use this," he held up a knife, its blade gathering what scarce light was available and throwing it in a shimmer of silver. Clark's blood ran cold. "I have a taser too, and a variety of other devices I'm sure you'd find...compelling," he walked forward. The gray cinderblock room with exposed lightbulbs gave no hints as to where they were. 

"What do you want," Clark grit, hands shaking. This was one of his worst nightmares sprung to life. Helpless, lying on a table, fearing for those he...cared about...but couldn't protect. Panic gripped him by the spinal cord and squeezed tight, making his stomach roll, his head hurt.

"Well, for starters, I'd like to know what the president wants with some podunk farmer. First he drags a team to Kansas, then you show up here. So Clark, what does he want with you?"

Silence. Kent gulped, unsure of how to proceed, his mind unable to wade through the drugs to work fast enough. 

"If you lie to me, I'll hurt you," the masked figure stepped even closer, running the blade over Clark's flesh. He shivered beneath it. 

Time to change the subject. "I think the better question is why do you want to know? So what if the president wants to talk to some 'podunk' farmer?" 

"That wasn't what I asked," he said disappointedly. With a tsk tsk, he slowly pressed the knife into the soft skin at Clark's inner forearm. Pain exploded from the spot and he fought the tears already springing to his eyes. 

Luckily, he remained silent as the metal dragged through his flesh and rivers of red sprang forth. It was about a four inch long cut, not terribly deep, but deep enough to bleed a lot. The blood felt warm against his freezing skin. He bit his lip and prayed for some sort of miraculous end to this. Did Lex know that he was missing? How did this guy manage to get to the president in the first place? How did he know that he and Lex would be in that passageway?

"Let's try again," the man snapped his fingers to bring him back to the task at hand. "What does Lex Luthor want with Clark Kent?" 

He swallowed, unsure if he could maintain a poker face through the pain and drugs. Sweat gathered at his forehead and trickled down his temples. What could he possibly say to this man? 'Well, I didn't know it, but Lex knew that I had been Superman. I don't have my powers anymore, but Lex thinks he can help me get them back, which I only need to do because an alien threat is about to wipe out humanity.'

No. He definitely could not say that. Trying to get his brain to work faster, he took a shuddering breath in and decided to lie. It would have to be good, or he'd be dead.

"I - I worked at the Daily Planet with Lois Lane. She and I had all the interviews with Superman..."

"Go on," he twirled the blade against the pad of his finger.

"He wanted to know what we knew about Superman. How well we knew him. Where he is." 

"I see. And he couldn't accomplish this over the phone?" he wiped the blade off with a cloth, turning it to shine and glare at a helpless Clark. He walked around the table that Kent was strapped to, predatory, like a wolf examining its prey. "He had to come see you personally? And even that wasn't enough? He had to bring you to DC?" Once the blade was clean, he smiled at it for a moment, raised it, then shoved it through Clark's right arm. This time, Clark screamed. He looked to see the handle of the knife jutting out from his arm. 

"You're making this quite difficult," the man from behind the black mask said. "You're giving me pieces. They sound reasonable enough. But you're not saying the whole thing. Or you're twisting the truth. I don't know which. Yet." He grabbed the handle and yanked the knife from Clark's arm. The serrated teeth of the knife caught on his flesh on the way out and he threw his head back in pain. 

"Where exactly is Superman?" the stranger asked, his eyes hidden, unreadable. 

"I don't know," he breathed, "and I told Lex as much." 

"So to reward you for providing him with jack-shit, he gives you a trip to DC?" 

"I came here on my own," Clark grit. 

"Mmmm, I see," he set the knife down on the very table Clark was strapped to. Oh the irony, to be so close to a means of escape only to have it just out of reach... The man's hands were moving, going to Clark's jeans. 

"W-what are you doing?" 

"Easier to cut you if I can see what I'm doing," he undid the button and zipper and pulled off the jeans, undoing one leg restraint at a time to get them fully off. Clark's socks and shoes were already gone. Once the pants were off, he then began cutting off Clark's shirt. "You know what I think?" he asked as he worked. "I think that you *are* Superman." 

"What? Are you insane?" Clark tried, terror rising in his chest like floodwater. "Do you think I'd be bleeding if I were? Or strapped down to this table instead of smashing your face in?" 

He laughed at that; a deep, twisted sound that emanated from the menacing mask. "I think that 'Superman' as the world knew him is gone. My running theory was that he was killed...until of course things changed. Luthor starts drinking himself under the table every night and meeting with his military advisor three times a day. Something terrible is happening, it's apparent, and the first place he goes is to Kansas - home state of Superman. Although Smallville isn't Metropolis, it sure is close enough, just four hours away, the nearest major city to that tiny shit hole. I think he went there to plead for Superman's help...the only problem is that Superman didn't reappear on television or in the news. He hasn't come back - and Lex is still drinking himself sick." 

"Answer me Clark," he picked the knife back up and anchored it at his abdomen, blade poised to run across his skin. "Were you Superman?" 

"No," he answered solidly, conviction in his eyes, the drugs wearing thinner. He thought that he'd done a good job lying...

"Tsk, tsk," he dragged the blade over Clark's abdomen, making several quick cuts, slicing skin open in five places. "I think you're lying. My new running theory is that you 'were' Superman but somehow lost your powers. It's happened before." 

Who the hell was this guy and how did he know so much? Clark tried to catch his breath and ignore the stinging pain at his abdomen. More panic flared in Clark's stomach as his mind went wild with 'what if's.' What if this nut killed Lex? What if he had hurt him? What if no one was looking to save him and he'd be strapped to this table forever? Dissected alive?" 

"What do you gain from doing this?" Kent gritted, yanking on the restraints. He tried not to think about how hungry he was. How cold he was. How badly he had to pee. The figure turned, walked over to a table and put down the knife, picking up something else.

"Well...I get the truth. And if you won't give it to me, then I get to sell you off to someone who will hold you captive, study you, cut you open, rip apart your body's secrets. You know what really pisses me off?" he changed topics suddenly, walking towards Kent with a taser. "It pisses me off that Lex is keeping things from his people. Clearly, something terrible is happening. But I can tell that he's only told a few people," he clicked the taser on. It hummed with gaining electricity. "You know...I bet he told the former Superman what's going on - to try and get him back." 

Clark's eyes were wide, body bracing for electric impact. 

"Did he tell you what's going on? Because I personally would like to know if we're about to get taken out by an asteroid, or go to war, or be invaded. It can't be a virus or something that Superman wouldn't be able to stop. No, it would have to be a threat that the Man of Steel could assist with. So what is it?"

"I don't know." He sealed his own fate and readied himself for the consequences. 

"Liar." His hand darted forward, the sizzling arc of electricity making contact with his left ribcage. Pain exploded from the spot, racing outward, Clark's mouth opened to scream but no sound came out. His body jolted and jerked, flopping like a fish out of water. Tears sprang to his eyes and slid down his cheeks, the smell of urine filled the air, hot wetness traveling down his legs. Finally, the onslaught stopped. "Maybe I should use the knife and the taser at the same time," he picked the blade back up. 

Clark struggled to remember how to breathe as the world slowed around him. His mouth was slack, sucking in oxygen.

"TELL ME WHAT THE THREAT IS SUPERMAN!" he screamed, slicing an angry backhanded cut into Clark's cheek, the blood mixing with his tears. 

"Lex and I knew each other in Smallville. We had a relationship. He missed me, that's why I came to DC," he lied. There was bit of truth in it though, so it sounded genuine. "I'm not Superman, I'm just a reporter who happened to interview Superman, an old flame of Lex's," he was grateful for his already splotchy red cheeks to hide the blush. "When he couldn't get any good info about Superman, he left Smallville. I followed him back to DC...I missed him."

"You think I buy that?" he tried, but he sounded a bit confused, as if he believed Clark. "You have a wife and two kids." 

"I love my kids, I love Lois too...but the feelings I have for Lex...they never went away. I tried to shove them down, to forget, to move on...but seeing him again..." his voice split. The words were true. He realized as he spoke them that they were true, and that chilled him to his core. "I could tell he was stressed - scared - and it terrified me. Whatever he was dealing with...I didn't want him to have to deal with it alone." 

The stranger brought a hand to his head to pull at his hair. "LIAR!" he screamed, but Clark could tell that he'd gotten to him. He believed Clark. He raced towards Kent, the taser in his hand, angled at Clark's neck this time. It would kill him if he flipped it on. "Do you love Lex?" the device buzzed next to his ear. 

More tears cascaded down his face. This man was asking him to admit something that he hadn't even admitted to himself. His relationship with Lex was so complicated. Friendship to hatred, confused animosity to reluctant trust. Clark had daydreamed - fantasized - about having Lex since he was 15. He couldn't even tell Lois about his sordid fantasies. As Superman, when he had Lex's throat in his hands, his back against a wall, he had to fiercely fight the desire to kiss him, to grind into him, to punish him with his hands and cock for being an arrogant bastard. But all of Lex's nefarious dealings were just attempts to reach Superman. Just to feel that hand wrapped around his throat. And Clark knew it. Want rolled off Lex in waves - back in Smallville - as Superman's enemy - and even now, as President.

"DO YOU LOVE LEX?" the man hissed. 

Clark swallowed. 

"Yes," he said brokenly. 

The man broke away and screamed. He flung the taser at the opposite wall and stood there for a moment, breathing heavily. Clark tried and failed once more to get out of the restraints. "I've had enough of this," the stranger returned, knife in his hand. He held the weapon over Clark's furiously beating heart, its point denting the flesh there. "Time to end this," he lifted his hand, ready to plunge the knife in. Clark thought about his daughters - fatherless. Lois - widowed. At least she would never have to know how he felt about Lex...how his greatest enemy had turned into his greatest longing. 

Just before he could bring down the knife and strike true, a gunshot rang out. Clark's eyes were shut, but snapped open. Another shot. The stranger went twisting, falling towards the ground. 

He let out a relieved sob as he saw Lex rushing towards him. "Clark," he breathed, a cut on his face, a black eye just above it. "Are you okay?" his eyes scanned Kent, horror written on his face as he saw the cuts, the urine, the electric burn at Clark's ribcage. 

The man on the floor groaned, still alive, and Lex kicked him as hard as humanly possible. He reached into the stranger's pockets and grabbed a key. He slid it into the table and the restraints unlocked. Clark was free, his trembling libs moving, body angling to sit up. Lex reached out and grabbed the man on the floor, yanking the mask off. It was his right hand man - Gregory Turner. His eyes were wide, breathing labored, Lex's hands around his neck. 

"D-don't kill him Lex," Clark breathed, his whole body screaming in pain. There were also bruises on Lex's body. He must have put up quite a fight while fighting unconsciousness. Turner had probably hit and kicked him into submission. 

"Oh, I don't plan to," Lex's eyes glittered. He slapped cuffs on Turner and two men appeared in the doorway. Lex dragged his hostage to the men, thrust him in their arms and spoke to them. Clark couldn't hear. He was gingerly stepping off the table. He stood, legs trembling, he turned and began to fall. Lex was rushing to him, arms out, catching him before he hit the floor. "Let's get you out of here."


	7. Chapter 7

Lex wrapped his knee-length black jacket around Kent and guided him outside. Clark had protested getting into the black SUV, but Lex insisted. Apparently he didn't care that Clark reeked of urine and was dripping blood like a faucet. So he gingerly climbed inside, wincing from both the pain and the knowledge that he was ruining the leather interior. 

They didn't speak for the first several minutes. 

The only words uttered were from Lex's lips, instructing the driver to take them to his 'tertiary location.' Whatever that meant. He just leaned his aching head against the window, aware that it would now be covered with sweat and blood and the rise and fall of his fogging breath. With every bump, his head tapped against the glass. God, he prayed that this was real...that he wasn't actually back in that basement, unconscious from being tortured. 

The drive would have been a lot shorter if it weren't for all the red lights they hit along the way. With every forced stop, he heard Lex huff these impatient little grunts. Ten minutes into the trip, Lex was leaning forward, hands knotted together, tapping his foot. He reached out a pale hand and pressed the button for the partition to go up. It rose slowly and left them alone in the back seat. His worried face turned towards Clark, lips parting. "I want to take you to the hospital, but I know I can't."

"No, you definitely can't," worry returned to his already strained voice. "S-so where are we going?" 

"To one of my...homes," he sighed and ran a hand over his head. "I'll patch you up myself."

"And what are you going to do about Turner?" 

"Leave that to me."

Clark wrung his hands together nervously, dread settling into his stomach. "I don't want you to kill him Lex," his voice sounded so small.

"I know you, Clark. So I already knew that." 

Silence squirmed between them. That was far from being the non-murderous promise that Kent had hoped for, but it was all he was getting. Just as bad, Clark was so damn tired and hurt, but he still had so many questions. For now though, he would have to just be satisfied with the fact that he was rescued and about to be fixed up. 

After another ten minutes, the car finally rolled to a stop out front of an apartment complex. 

"Looks like we're here," Lex opened his door and hopped out before Clark could even form a thought. His door was opening and Lex was there to greet him, arm out. He helped the younger man climb out of the car and propped him up as they made their way to the front door of the complex. 

"It's not my penthouse in Metropolis, but it's something," Lex said, fishing his keys out with his free hand. They walked through the lobby to a bank of elevators. Lex held out his key and the elevator door slid open. Once inside, he pressed his thumb to a black pad and clicked on the highest floor's button. They rode up in silence. "They say that skyscrapers 'ruin the charm' of DC, so they forbid it. Which I think is bullshit. So here's my twelfth story penthouse," he laughed. 

"Oh, I don't know, I like Washington DC," Clark gave a broken grin. They walked inside. 

"That makes one of us," the elevator doors slid closed behind them. "I seriously asked if I could run the country from Metropolis, but that suggestion was met with a resounding 'no.'"

Clark chuckled, then grabbed his side in a hiss of pain. 

"Let's get you to the bathroom," Lex's strong hand was guiding him further into the space, which was surprisingly modern. The home felt much more...Lexian...than the White House did. It also felt quite nice to have Lex's jacket draped around his shoulders. So when they reached the bathroom and Lex instructed him to take it off, he instantly missed its warmth and the rich cologne that clung to it.

The bathroom was several shades of softly lit gray. It had granite counter tops adorning the two sink vanity, a toilet of course, and a large walk-in shower backed with the same granite. 

"Stay here, I'm going to get the first aid kit and some clothes." 

Exhausted, Clark sat with a thud on the lidded toilet and rested his head in his hands. 

Lex came whooshing back with one arm full of black fabric and the other holding a rather size-able kit. He set everything down on the counter and began opening the first aid kit. 

"Where's your security right now?" Clark broke the silence. 

"Oh, don't worry, they're everywhere. They get paid very well to be discreet." 

"So discreet that I got kidnapped?" 

The jostle of Lex's fingers moving in the kit stopped. He wasn't looking, but Lex had paled considerably at his words. "Clark...I am so sorry...and I know that sorry doesn't even begin to cover it." He resumed fishing out what he'd need from the kit and setting things out on the counter. "I had no idea that Turner was dirty." He stopped what he was doing and turned to regard the former Superman.

He leaned one hip against the counter, facing Clark. "I - I was too distracted by the threat to the planet to realize what a snake he was. What an obsession he had with Superman. I knew that he was becoming more and more annoyed with how secretive I was, but I didn't really give a shit...and I should have." 

As he spoke, his eyes scanned over Clark's tired body, now violently shaking with cold. 

"We need to get you into the shower," he stepped towards the glass box and reached out to turn on the water before returning for Clark. "It'll be easiest to clean all your wounds at once in the shower, and then bandage them all once you get out."

Clark agreed with a nod and stood up, only to to sway and flail on his way downwards. Luckily, Lex caught the movement from the corner of his eye and moved to catch Clark just before he met with the floor. He hauled him back up to standing, shocked at how incredibly heavy he was. The smell of urine filled his nose, but he didn't so much as flinch.

Clark took several breaths and tried to blink away his dizziness. He suddenly had a flashback. A hazy memory. Turner puncturing his arm with a needle, plunging a syringe downward. 

"H-he drugged me," Clark recalled foggily. "So that I couldn't escape if I got loose I think."

"I can see that," Lex steadied him. "God, I wish I could take you to the hospital. What if he gave you something toxic?" his words were laced with concern.

"I doubt it." 

"Why's that?" 

"Because, when he injected me, he believed I was valuable. He - he said he was going to sell me off to the highest bidder...so they could...dissect me. Study me. He really thought I was..."

"Superman," Lex looked a little green.

"Yeah." 

"Fucking Turner," Lex spat. "Come on, let's get you in the shower," he was pulling Clark towards the warmth. 

"Y-you're j-just gonna g-get in with all your cl-clothes on?" his teeth chattered wildly. 

Lex sighed impatiently. He ripped his watch off and tossed it to the counter before unbuttoning his shirt and throwing it to the floor. He hastily undid his belt as he toed off his shoes and yanked off his socks. He stripped down to his jet black boxers, like Clark. 

Clark let his eyes linger on Lex's body. There were ugly bruises that had formed all over his body. The worst of them were at his ribcage. There was bruising at his neck. A black eye. Purplish blue marks on his upper thigh. Lex just ignored the ogling and maneuvered them both inside the shower. 

The heat felt so good to Clark who just shook and shook beneath the waterfall spray. He reached a hand out and made the temperature even hotter. The water swirling the drain turned red. He wrapped his own arms around his body, squeezing his eyes shut, and continued to shake, even though he was quickly warming up. 

All he kept thinking about was that helpless feeling. Turner, hovering menacingly above him, hand raised, poised to plunge that knife into his heart. He thought he was doing the smart thing, convincing Turner that he wasn't the former Man of Steel, when in reality, it nearly got him killed. He never would have seen his kids again, or Lois...or Lex...

He didn't even realize he was crying until Lex's hands were on his shoulders, turning him around to face him. His body continued shaking as Lex pulled him into his pale chest. He undid his arms and wrapped them around Luthor, burying his face into the crook of his neck and continuing to cry. 

So many of his nightmares were becoming reality. He couldn't protect the planet, or his family, or Lex or even himself. And when Turner had threatened to sell him off, to have his body ripped apart...it was everything he and his parents had feared. It was the epitome of all he feared.

Clark couldn't help but violently sob into Lex's arms, his fingers hanging onto the porcelain skin for dear life. He could scarcely breathe he was crying so hard. The room spun around him and his headache screamed, but he just couldn't stop crying. 

Lex was slowly lowering them to the tiled floor and continuing to hold him as he shook. One of his hands was carding through Clark's brown hair, now plastered to his head, while the other rubbed soothing circles on his back. Lex's legs were even wrapped around Clark, who sat near the drain, body turned into Luthor's. 

"I'm so sorry Clark...God, I'm so...so sorry," he rocked him back and forth gently. "I never should have dragged you into this. Never should have brought you to DC."

"No, no," Clark pulled away, just enough to see Lex without being crosseyed. "I never should have given up my powers," he admitted. His face was twisted in torturous dismay and his green irises shone brightly against his bloodshot eyes. "I just wanted to be normal," his fingers still clung to Lex. "I wanted my family to be safe and normal..." his voice split. "Selfish, so fucking selfish," his features scrunched in anger.

Lex only wrapped himself around Clark tighter, fixing Kent's head into his neck so that his chin could rest on the top of his head. "No...not selfish," he soothed. "If anyone knows what it's like to desperately want normalcy Clark...it's me," he locked his jaw and thanked god for the spray of the hot water that would hide his own tears. He never wanted to be Lionel's son, or to be a meteor freak. He never asked for the fortune or the pressure to change the world. And he didn't dare tell anyone that being president was only half as stressful as running LexCorp...until the threat of alien invasion of course. He didn't ask to be the one to have to knock on Superman's door and beg his return. He didn't ask to be responsible for helping Clark get his powers back. And if he failed...that was the end of humanity. 

Lex wanted normalcy too.

"You didn't know Clark, you couldn't have known that giving up your powers would lead to this." 

"I should have. I should have stopped being selfish for five fucking minutes and thought of what giving up my powers could really mean." 

"There's no point in living in the past. In 'what if's' and 'should of's.' What matters now is that you're here. You're safe. I've got you," he rested his head against Clark's. 

Kent tried to ignore the impossibly close proximity and the tingling heat spreading through his spine and groin. It was such an odd thing to feel so remarkably vulnerable; to be crying and clinging and yet feeling that familiar creep of arousal.

Eventually, as Clark ran out of tears, the pair stood up (Clark, rather wobbly) and Lex began to soap up his wounds. His elegant fingers moved carefully over each cut, gathering soap and running it through the open flesh. Clark did his best not to protest or squirm, he just remained on his feet the best he could and tried to tamp down the desire that was rising to a fever pitch. He was so hard that it hurt.

He had never realized how intimate an act being bathed was. Apparently, it was right up there with sobbing into another's arms while you're nearly naked.

Having the cuts cleaned hurt, but Lex would soothe him and rub his unbroken flesh with his thumb to distract him. After about ten minutes, all the cuts had been cleaned out and Lex was reaching to shut off the water. Clark hated that the shower was over, he wanted to reach out, to stop Lex's hand from turning the handle. But he didn't. The sound of the steady rush of water ceased and only the occasional droplet echoed around them. 

Neither of them acknowledged that the other was hard. Clark's boxers were nearly see-through because of the water, and he caught Lex looking more than once. Lex on the other hand, had the luxury of black boxers, but they were silk, so they clung to him pretty tightly. 

God, how desperately Clark wanted to reach out, to feel him through that silk and peel off the fabric. He'd wanted to touch Lex's cock since he was fifteen.

All of Smallville lived tucked away in the back of Clark's head and it was harder and harder to shove the lid on those memories. He wondered why Lex didn't reach out and grasp his own hardness. He wondered why Lex bothered with him at all. It was probably only because the world needed saving, he reckoned. Otherwise, why bother with someone that had - up to a month ago - been his enemy? 

Is that why Lex hated Superman so much? Because he actually liked him - and saw liking him as a weakness?

Luthor slid open the door. They stepped out of the steamy shower and Lex quickly wrapped him in an absurdly soft towel, instructing him to sit on the toilet lid once more. 

Lex hastily dried himself, then wrapped the towel around his waist, grateful for the ability to hide his straining desire. His hands flew to the items he had set out and he began working on Clark's cuts. Obviously, he started with the one on Clark's soft underarm, where Turner had stabbed him clean through. Luckily, the blade hadn't hit any bones or major blood vessels.

"How did you find me Lex?" Clark asked, finally breaking the silence. 

Lex was opening up a fresh roll of bandages. He had to remember how to carry on a conversation. It was an odd and dreamy headspace the pair had been in when the shower ended and now Clark's words were yanking him back to reality. "Well, I woke up in the corridor, with the shit kicked out of me, and you were gone." His eyes were intently focused on his work of fixing Clark so as to avoid eye contact. "I wasn't sure what to do or where to start...so I grabbed some of my best men. We scoured security footage but couldn't find anything out of the ordinary before the attack. The power had only been cut in that corridor." 

Clark squirmed as Lex swabbed the next cut he had moved onto. 

"It came down to one of the P.I.'s in my employ. I swear he's better than the FBI. Used to work for the CIA. Anyway, he found tire tracks that didn't match the ones in the fleet. He figured out the make and model of the car and went from there, checking cctv, traffic cams, speeding cameras, the works. Still couldn't find you though." 

"Your timing is pretty damn good," Clark whispered. "He was just about to kill me." 

Lex sucked in a breath, his eyes wide and scared for a split second, before his mask fell back into place. 

"If the world wasn't about to end, and we were back in Metropolis...I would have assumed it was you who took me." 

Lex's hands stopped working and his cold gray gaze stared at Clark in shock.

"You think I would hurt you like that?" 

"Not me. Superman maybe."

Lex had been kneeling on the floor in front of him. His expression was now wrought with betrayal. "I - I'm sorry, I shouldn't have...said that..." he shook his head and droplets fell from his chestnut curls.

"Why would I kidnap you?" 

"Then or now? Well then, I would say to get my secrets. But now, you already have my permission to help me get my powers back. You're already going to have access to my body."

"I already had your secret," Lex said bitterly. "I already knew you were Superman." 

"I - I know that now..."

"And I didn't tell a fucking soul," Lex added, venom in his voice. "For years." 

"I know! Lex, I'm not saying that I think you were behind Turner taking me..."

"Are you sure that's not what you're saying? Because it sure sounds like that's what you're implying." 

"No! I just..." he took a shuddering breath, unsure of what to say next. "I spent so long thwarting you, being your enemy..."

"That you think I can't do anything good at all?" Lex cut him off. 

"No...that's not it." 

"Then what *is* IT?" 

"For a moment, I had thought that you let whoever took me - take me - to figure out if you had a leak in your office. That was one of my first thoughts, strapped to that table." 

Lex sat back on his heels, taking a breath, his hands shaking. "I would never... put you in danger like that," he deadpanned. "And up until this happened, I had no idea that I even had a rat," he threw the bloodied swab on the floor and stood.

"You can finish patching yourself up. I'm going to go get dressed," he walked towards the door.

"Lex - Lex I'm... I'm sorry...I didn't..." 

The door shut. He was gone.


End file.
